Ich Habe die Ehre
by Silverwinding
Summary: All Michael wanted was to have a great trip in order to study German culture, language and history, but he gets a little more than he bargains for when he ends up as a translator for a certain Austrian musician. Austria x male!oc Rating might go up in the future, maybe.
1. Chapter 1

It was so worth it, so extremely worth it. It didn't matter if the flight had costed 10,000 dollars anymore because it had been worth it. He was finally here, the country of his questionable obsession, Germany.

Currently standing in a bookstore in Köln or as it is better known in America, Cologne. He was pulling out Euros to buy a book by the name of The War of the Austrian Succession by Reed Browning, a subject which had recently piqued his intrest and a German copy of the first Harry Potter book, because why not bring back lovable childhood memories by reading it in a different language, and also because the cover art for this particular verison was terrifyingly hideous that he had to buy it.

He quickly checked out at the cash register, glad for having studied German since elementary school. He was basically fluent. Ever since he was young he'd had an odd fascination with the language, probably because his uncle brought tales of the country along with the langauge, back with him when he visited. Uncle Alex, or as he insited on being called, Onkle Alex, had a job teaching English in a German school and brought home tales of the country along with the langauge, back with him when he visited. He hadn't spoken a peep of German when he had first moved, but being forced to learn had taught him much.

That's what warrented the trip, for the most part, to gain a better grasp of the language. Of course, he also wanted to sightsee, which was why he was standing in awe before the towering gothic spires of the Cologne Cathedral. It was enormous, he had known that already, he had seen it from miles away as he was driving into the city, the two tallest towers, watchful sentinels, gaurding the city in the light of the rising sun.

However, up close it was much more aweinspiring. In fact he was so busy looking up and gaping at the monument to human perserverance (it did take about 6-700 years to build) that he nearly tripped on the uneven, cobbled streets and hit a street performer.

"Ack!" He cried out, just barely catching himself before a collision. "_Entschuldigung_, _entschuldigung!_" He apologised profusely to the woman, her skin painted gold and dressed like an angel. She waved it off and asked whether he'd like to take a picture with her. Naturally, he complied and pulled out his phone, snapping a picture of the two of them standing before the looming cathedral.

_"You must be a tourist. None of the natives take pictures with us street performers._" She told him in German.

_"Ja, Ich komme aus Amerika._" He replied, with a grin. She seemed relatively surprised.

_"Wirklich? You speak so fluently for an American_." He proceeded to explain that he had been studying German for years and that he hoped he could become a German teacher of some sort back home, or maybe even an ambassador or translator if he could rack up the degree for it.

"_That takes some dedication, I know I struggled to learn English when I was in school. I think you deserve something special, perhaps a wish to be granted?"_ She smiled and tapped him on the head with her wand, a white stick with a golden star attatched. He laughed and took his leave. He still had a cathedral to explore.

The inside was just as spectacular as out. The light streamed through beautiful stained glass windows, creating a dim and solemn atmosphere. No one inside spoke above a whisper. There were rows and rows of wooden pews, some people sat in them, not waiting for a service, but rather being humbled by the enormity and sacredness of the dark stone reaching for the heavens. Candles stood at intervals on the sides of the walk ways, creating a feel of times long past. Raised above the pews were sculptures of various saints smiling down good fortune to those who passed by.

He walked slowly, with measured steps, in order to take everything in. Eventually he made his way down to the cathedral treasury, where relics of the church were kept. It was considerably cooler and less moist. There were artifacts from all sorts of different time periods, being held in glass cases and resting on velvet cushions. Each had a plaque attached describing it and its origin. He skimmed the text. It was interesting, but not all that interesting. Next his steps led him into the crypt. The names of dead bishops inscribed on the floor above where they had been laid to rest. It was considerably emptier, maybe it was the feeling judgement that scared people off.

Out of the corner of his eye he caught a flash of white and gold, but it dissappeared behind and old oaken door. Could it be that street preformer? Curiousity drew him forward, but he clutched the strap of his backpack aprehensively when he reached the door. Should he really go in? It wasn't like there was a sign warding against it. WIth a sigh of finality he pulled open the door and stepped in.

He gasped in shock when his feet were met with, well, nothing. He fell through air and his surroundings darkened, he was either still falling or blacked out. It was hard to tell. Suddenly his stomach returned to its proper spot and he could breathe again.

He was lying on his stomach on a hard and uncomfortable surface. A groan released itself from his lips. God, everything hurt, that had been quite some fall. Pushing himself up, he rubbed his eyes and kneaded his aching head. Once he was back on two feet he deemed himself ready to open his eyes. It was painfully bright, if he didn't know better he'd say he was having a hangover.

Once his eyes adjusted to the light, he sucked in a breath with the intention of never letting it go. It would be better if he died here rather than of the embarrassment later. He was standing in the center of an elliptical table, around which people sat, seeeming to be in the middle of some sort of meeting, well until he arrived at least. Now they were all staring a him and he was beginning to feel selfconcious about his unkempt dark curls tied hastily back and his black jeans, blue converse, and a plain blue tee. Everyone else was wearing a business suits and the like.

Once he swallowed past his shock and embarrassment, he realized he should probably apologize because he was clearly interupting something. "_Err um, 'ach, Es tut Mir sehr leid_!" it was probably best to speak german, theres no way he was anywhere else, but Germany. He resisted the urge to bury his face in his hands."_'Tschuldigung, 'Tschuldigung_." He winced at the sheer awkwardness of the situation as he tentatively scooted to the right, hoping to escape the hell circle. The eyes followed him. He hopped on the table muttering apologies, to the two he had walked between. "Um, _Tschüssi_!" he gave a little nervous wave over his shoulder. Ten feet to the door, nine feet, eight, seven-  
"_Warte_!" he cringed at the booming voice, ringing throughout the room. Slowly he turned around and met the eyes of a very upset looking blond guy. "_Wer Sind Sie_?" the man asks sternly.  
_"Ich bin der Michael. Michael Biederwolf. Ich besuche Deutschland, nur. Ich komme aus die USA._" Michael explains, fidgeting under the piercing gaze.  
"Hey! Don't leave the Hero out of the conversation! Come on, German dude, what's he saying?" another man pipes up, this one having light brown hair and wearing an aviator jacket. Michael is surprised by the English, but he supposes this could be some sort of world meeting.  
"Well, Amèrique, maybe if you actually tried to learn a foreign language, you would know, no?" a man across the table from the American replied in a French accent, flipping his blond tresses over his shoulder.  
"Oh yeah, like you ever tried to learn English!" shot back the other. Michael's brow furrowed, wasn't he already speaking English? Then a newcomer joined the fray, a blond man with the thickest eyebrows he had ever seen.  
"Like the garbage you speak is even English!" a British accent hangs heavy on his words. From there it descended into chaos. Insults flew as well as fists as other members of the meeting gave their own two cents about the matter.

Perhaps now was a good time to duck out. Michael went back to stepping towards the door, hoping to go unnoticed. Unfortunately, the blond german seems to have spotted him. "_Oh no you don't._" He made an attempt to speed up his escape, but his legs still hurt from the fall. The tall german quickly caught him by his collar.

"_No, Michael!_ _If you want to run away you have to work harder than that!" _A considerably shorter man with reddish brown hair and a curl advised him german, with a lilting Italian accent.

"_You are from Italy aren't you?"_ He questions, curiously. The brunette nods his head vigoruosly, a bright grins splitting his face.

"_Yes, I learned a lot of german from spending time in Germany."_ He explains cheerfully. "_I'm Italy, by the way!" _With an elbow from the German man he corrects himself. "_ Ah, I mean Italian, I'm italian. I guess my german isn't that great yet!" _He laughs nervously. Suddenly the American bursts into the conversation and if it weren't for the hand still holding Michael's collar, he'd have fallen over.

"And I'm America!" Michael might not have been able to see the glare being shot over my head, but he certainly felt it. "Err, I mean American!"

"Fool me once shame on you, fool me twice shame on me." He deadpanned, while pointing at the man for emphasis. "Come on, man, I realize I might not be the brightest bulb in the box, but I'm not _that _stupid. Now how 'bout someone tells me why everyone's calling themselves by the names of countries." Suddenly the room was deathly quiet. Michael shrunk back into himself a little. Maybe being so forward in a situation where he didn't have the upper hand hadn't been a good idea.

"Angleterre, did you hear zhat?" The frenchman asked the brit, their hands at each others throats.

"I say, he was speaking our language." Gasped out the brit in reply.

"Are you a country?" Questioned the blond German.

"Oh, yeah, Biederwolfnia is a country with a population of one and long history of sarcasm and unanswered questions." Michael deadpanned, his eyes rolling. "On a side note, aren't we speaking English?" Didn't the French one say he didn't speak English? Someone was going to need to start answering his questions soon. At least he wasn't being held by his collar anymore.  
He was being regarded carefully by several people. Many had turned in their seats in order to see him better. Michael shifted uncomfortably under their scrutinization. He supposed he wasn't really in the position to be asking questions. At least he had tried, right?

The American and the Italian had returned to their seats, so now he was left standing with the German. "How did you even get in here?" The man questioned you, the intensity in his eyes leaving no room for lies.

"He did fall from the cieling, aru..." Whispered an Asian looking man with long hair, to his neighbor.

"Powerful magic could be responsible..." Contemplated the one with the thick eyebrows.

"Yeah, right. That's dumb. He's probably a hero, like me!" Chimed in the American. 'Oh yeah, like your theory was any better' Michael thought to himself.

"Uh, actually, as much as those are great ideas, I was just in the Cologne Cathedral, in the crypt. Sightseeing, you know. It was really interesting, I had just come from the treasury and there were all these old artifacts." Michael winced as he caught up with what he was actually saying, 'Michael, you're rambling, they don't care.' "Err, anyhow, in the crypt there was this door and I saw someone go inside. I was pretty curious so I checked it out, but when I stepped over the threshold there was nothing, except air and I... uh, fell, I guess." He spares a glance at the white cieling, which is, unfortunately for his case, pit fall free. "Somehow the windows make me doubt this a clandestine sub-crypt meeting..."

"Hmm, where are you currently residing?" Asked his newly dubbed interogator, was he writing all that down?

"Permanently? The United States, Michigan. For the trip I was basically hopping from one youth hostel to another." This really was turning out like an interrogation.

"Occupation?"

"Student at the University of Michigan, but I often translate for a few families in the area that I know well, on the side." It was hard not to show how nervous he was, but it felt important that he not show weakness.

"What is it exactly that you are studying?" Asks the blond, looking up from his sheet of paper.

"I'm a German studies major..." He explains, he was about to add something else, but thought better of it and trails off instead.

"No minor, then?" Michael mumbles something under his breath.

"You're going to have to speak up."

He clears his throat and continues, "Nothing, I'm not minoring in anything, I needed the time for raising money for this trip and all..." It was a lie, but a white one, he just didn't like to talk about it. He tried not to flinch when he made eye contact, that would seem pretty suspicous.

"Isn't the middle of the school year? Shouldn't you be in studying?" Inquired the Brit.

"Well, this semester I have mostly culture courses, so instead of going to lectures and turning in assignments I was allowed to come as long as I wrote an essay, in german of course, about everything I saw related to culture and explain the differences to American culture. I've been taking a journal around with me so I can take notes." The student clarified. There were quiet murmurings as everyone considered what had been said. He felt almost as though he were on trial.

"If he had a life before this it's unlikely he's a country." stated a soft spoken Asian man with a short black bob of sorts, sitting near the Italian and the German.

"Sorry to interupt, but is someone going to explain this country thing to me?" Michael queried.

"You see, _Michel_, all of us here are personifications of countries around the world." It was the Frenchman who had spoken up. Gesturing to himself, he continued. "I myself am France the country _de l'amour_." The brunette cringed at the lecherous wink sent in his direction.

"And I'm Italy!" Cheered Italy from his seat waving his arms above his head for attention.

"Yes, I, err, I caught that." Michael replied, shifting the strap of his bag. "But do you honestly expect me to believe that? I mean, it's an interesting concept to think about, but difficult to grasp."

"So you are not believing we exist, da?" Asked a tall Russian with a scarf wrapped around his neck.

"No that's not it," He attempted to refute the claim by shaking his head furiously. "You exsist, obviously, I mean you're right here in front of me, but I just don't think that you're the countries personified. Can you prove it?" The 'countries' looked from one to the other trying to figure out if any of them had any ideas.

"Hold on a minute here, we don't have to prove anything to you!" Shouted the Brit as he slammed his hands on the table. Michael rubbed his neck in thought

"I suppose that's true." 'Doesn't change the fact that I'd like some proof.' He thought to himself. Suddenly a dark haired man stood, the jabot that he wore fluttering lightly.

"Allow me to introduce myself. I am Austria." He stated while pushing his glasses back up to the bridge of his nose from where they had slid.

"Oh, _Servus_!" Michael greeted with a wave of his hand, switching his mentality from Standard German to Austrian German, which is almost a different language due to differences in dialect and some vocabulary. The Austrian nodded at him.

"Do you speak any more _Österreicher Deutsch_ than that?" His eyebrow is raised up in question.

"_Ja. I spreche a bissel." _He replied with a passive shrug and a light smile. He always loved to show off his German when he had the chance. Michael, recognized this arrogance within himself, but couldn't particularly be bothered to do anything about it.

The Austrian glanced at the woman seated next to him, who had light brown har with a flower nestled in it. The look conveyed askance and she nodded, a smile on her face.

"I have an important meeting coming up and urgently require a translator. You seem to fulfill all the prerequisites and it would be good to have someone aware of the situation." He waved his gloved hand at the others for emphasis. "Of course, you will have your proof along the way."

Michael blinked the surprise off his face. This offer was exactly what he had been studying for, but he suddenly remembered something important. "I appreciate the offer, but, uh, I actually have a trip to get back to..." He studied his shoes out of embarrasment for having to turn the man down. Guilt weighed on him, for not being able to help.

"Were you planning on visiting Austria, during your trip?" The man asked, while crossing his arms over his blue jacket.

"Yes, actually, in a week or so." Responded the student, looking up from the floor."

"Consider it part of your trip then." Michael didn't see the harm in going to Austria a little earlier than planned. He might have to let his uncle know, he was supposed to be at his house in a rural town in a few days to visit, but that could be dealt with and he'd have a job, which was good. Also it was a job he'd always dreamed of having, which was even better.

"Hmm, well, I guess you have yourself a new translator then."

**A/N: Well there's that, soon we can get to the fun part. I wasn't really sure how to write the Austrian German. I was considering writing it out as its pronounced to emphasis the difference between standard german, but I'm not sure. Also I only really speak Standard German so if anyone notices any mistakes with the Austrian, feel free to let me , I don't really know what I'm doing, it was just an idea that randomly hit me so, I'm writing it. Regarding the Cologne Cathedral, if you ever get a chance to see it, take it because it is more awesome than words and pirctures can describe. I saw it just last summer and it left a lasting impression on me, obviously. Also The War of the Austrian Succession by Reed Browning is a great book, if you're interested in the subject. I just started it recently, myself. I posted this story first on Wattpad and just combined the first two chapters because they were both pretty short.**

**Lastly Translations:**

Onkle- Literally just uncle in german

Entschuldigung- Sorry/excuse me

Ja Ich komme aus Amerika- Yes, I come from America

Wirklich- really

Es tut Mir sehr leid- I am very sorry

'Tschuldigung- literally a shortened version of Entschuldigung

_Tschüssi- _its hard to translate this, the english equivalent would probably be toodloo, but that doesn't exactly describe it.

Warte- Wait

Wer sind sie?- Who are you

Ich bin der Michael- I am Michael (for those interested Michael in a german accent would be pronounced Mee-sha-ehl)

Ich besuche Deutschland nur. Ich komme aus die USA.-I am only visiting Germany. I come from the USA.

Michel- french spelling of Michael pronounced like Michelle de l'amour- of love Servus- Hello (common greeting in austria)

_Österreicher Deutsch -Aust_rian German

Ja i spreche a bissel- Yes I speak a little

**Maybe you guys will learn some German from this! I know It's helped me lots trying to remember how to say things. :) Hope you enjoyed!**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: I'm gonna start putting translations at the beginning so you don't have to go to the end to figure out what they're saying.**

**Translations:**

_Meine Güte- My goodness_

_Danke- Thank you_

_Güte nacht- Good night_

Michael sat quietly through the rest of meeting, listening to the debates until chaos grew to a point where Germany, who had introduced himself, had to call it quits and ended the meeting. Afterwards a lot of the countries introduced themselves as well, others just left indifferently. Not that he minded, he wasn't exactly an important person. He met America, Italy, Japan, China, England, France, and Spain, who dragged Romano along. Later after most people had left Austria walked up to him with the woman in the green dress who had been sitting next to the country.

"Michael, this is Hungary, I thought I would introduce you to her because she will be taking care of the house while we are gone." The woman gave a wave.

"Hello, it's nice to meet you, Hungary." He gave a grin in return.

"You don't have to call me that, most of my friends just call me Elizabeta." She smiled at him.

"Huh, I guess it makes sense that you would also have normal names."

"So, have you accepted the fact that we are the personifications of our respective countries?" inquired the Austrian.

"Well, it seems pretty legitimate, so either it's true or everyone here are top notch actors." Or not, some of the personalities present in the diverse group of people were pretty extreme. "I'd still like some proof, just for curiosities sake. Anyhow, if it's true then you two have known eachother for a while. There was what? The Austro-Hungarian Comprmise and if I remember properly..." He squinted up into the air as he tried to bring back the knowledge. "Hungary was part of the Austrian Empire before that, right?" They seemed mildly surprised that he knew that.

"Yup, that's back when we were married, not anymore though. I come by to visit still, though. Mostly because he can't clean his house on his own." She leans in and moves a hand to shield her mouth from Austria's view and whispers, "Also, he doesn't like to admit it, but he gets lonely."

"I do not." retorts the indignant man next to her, sniffing. She just laughs. Michael grins.

"Well, I had better call up my uncle and tell him I won't be visiting. I'll meet you outside?" Austrian nodes and Michael leaves, pulling his cell phone out of his pocket as he goes.

Once he found a quiet area he opens the contact menu on his phone and selects Onkle Alex, putting the phone to his ear and waiting. However when it stopped ringing all it told him was that it was disconected. He pulled the phone away from his ear and looked at it in confusion. Then he selected his uncle's work number and tried again, only to have the same thing occur. "Strange." He murmured to himself. He proceeded to call a list of numbers, everyone from his father and his half sister to his ex whom he never even talked to anymore (why did he still have that number?). All of them ended in the same result.

He shoved the phone back in his pocket out of frustration and made his way back to where he had agreed to meet Austria and Hungary. 'Everyone, every single, last one, disconnected. How does that even happen. Either no one wants to talk to me or there was a mass break down in technology that miraculously had not affected me.'

"Any luck?" asked Hungary, observing his irritated demeanor.

"Not really, but it's alright, I'll deal with it later." No reason to bother his hosts with his problems. "Oh, that reminds me, my suitcase, it's still back at the hostel..."

"I'll arrange for Germany to pick it up, it's his country after all." replied the Austrian as they started walking. Michael quickened his strides to keep up. His legs and himself in general was shorter than the Austrian. Hungary was shorter than both of them, but she was considerably more athletic and just a quick walker in general. She seemed to want to walk faster, but she kept pace.

"Isn't that a pretty long trip just for a suitcase though?" He questioned.

"I think you'll find that travel time is shortened for personified countries." Responded the Austrian, violet orbs glancing towards him.

"I'll believe it when I see it."States Michael skeptically."Err, where are we exactly, anyway? I just assumed we were still in Germany, but now... I'm not so sure anymore."

"We're in America, Washington DC, to be more specific." Michael's jaw dropped.

"Are you kidding me? _Meine Güte_, I must be dreaming." He pinched the bridge of his nose in disbelief. "This is the end for me, I've finally gone off the deep end." Hungary just slaps him on the back and pushes him along with a giggle.

"You'll live, come on."

"Why are we boarding a train? Don't we have an ocean to cross?"

"I don't pretend to understand either, but I believe we could also walk or drive if we so wished, it would just take considerably more time to arrive." replies Austria, straitening his jacket as we sat down in a compartment. He and Hungary sit across from Michael.

"Oh I see, that interesting actually, I wonder how it works?" He paused looking at the plain white cieling of the compartment, when he came up with no ideas he looked back to his companions who seemed not to have any answers either. "I'm not bothering you with my questions am I? People always tell me I ask too many questions. " He asks nervously, wringing his hands out. "Wait, no, don't answer that. I'm just going to read instead." He reaches into his bag and pulls out both books that he had bought earlier that day, weighing them both in his hands, trying to ignore the two people sitting across from him who are probably staring at him. He also slapped himself mentally a few times for being awkward. Finally his eyes on Harry Potter, tucking the history book back in his bag. Nothing like a childhood classic in another language to calm you down. He flipped to the first page and inhaled the smell of new cleancut paper, then he began.

It seemed as though only seconds had passed when Elizabeta tapped him on the shoulder, "Michael, time to go." She informed him with an amused smile.

"What?! But I'm only on chapter three." He sighed and dropped the book back into the snug confines of his backpack. 'And here I was, thinking my German reading comprehension was so great. Good thing I'll be translating, that always makes for good practice. ' He thought to himself as he stood and exited the compartment and the train after the countries.

Austria's house was absolutely gorgeous. Surrounded by green and sitting upon a hill, it's pale blue color and rows of windows gave it a serene appearance. The classic triagular roof left room for an attic and Michael absentmindedly wondered if anyone ever went up there.

"Wow," Michael stared wide eyed at the structure, as he stepped out of Austria's car. Said car owner looked at him past the frames of his glasses, his eyebrows raised in askance. Michael caught the glance and rushed to explain, "Oh, it's just, you're house is really nice. I always forget that people actually live in picturesque houses. I mean, obviously I know people live in them, but I've been living in little dorms with other guys since I got into university so..." he smiled bashfully.

Austria looked towards his house, "It is rather beautiful isn't it? I suppose I haven't noticed, having lived in it for so long."

"Well, you'll be living in it too, from now on." Added Hungary resting a hand on each of their shoulders and smiling at them both. Then she grabbed Michael's arm and pulled him ahead.

"Haha, that's true, I guess I'll have to get used to having space. I think I might need a map." He joked lengthening his stride to keep up with Hungary's pace.

"How do you know, we're not just going to lock you into a closet?" asked Elizabeta with a smirk.

"Well, it can't be as bad as this roommate I had once." He frowned at the memory and then began to elaborate. "He was really messy, threw all his stuff on the floor all the time, so one day I just get sick of it and told him he had to clean up and he picked everything up and tossed it onto his bed, which I would have been fine with, except then he started sleeping in my bed before I got back from classes."

"I would have hit upside the head with my skillet, if I were in the same situation." Replied Hungary, after a moment of thought.

"Well, you're clearly a much stronger person than I am."

"Obviously."

"Wait, skillet? As in a frying pan?" He questioned, while slipping his hands into his pockets.

She grinned wickedly pulling a frying pan from seemingly nowhere. "Yup, see?"

"On a scale from one to ten, how quickly should I be running away right now?"

"That's ridiculous. None at all, of course! I would never hit anyone who isn't a danger to Mr. Austria or myself." The grin on her face seems to tighten ever so slightly. Michael hopes it's his imagination.

"Then why do I feel like, I'm on probation." He mumbles to himself.

"Ah, what was that, did you just admit, to being a threat?" Hungary teased, poking him in the stomach with the pan.

Michael clutches his side dramatically, "A mortal blow! I fear I shall not see another day, for this wound is to be the end of me."

"Oh no! Sir Biederwolf has fallen, I shall have to take his place. For I, the gallant Sir Hedervary, am the only one remaining with the strength to defeat the dragon!"

The theatrical banter continued back and forth for a while longer. Austria merely stood behind and shook his head at their antics. He was glad he had invited Elizabeta to come along, although in all likely hood she would have come to visit anyway, but in either case she was much better at small talk than he, and while he had hired Michael, he still didn't quite understand Mr. Biederwolf. He was certainly unique in his own way, to say the least.

The remainder of the day passed quickly. Michael had been shown to his room and given a general tour of the house. Upstairs, were the bedrooms and Austria's study. Below there was the kitchen, dining room, sitting room (a cosy area complete with comfy sofa's, chairs and a fireplace) and the piano room, which contained a grand piano situated near a row of curtained windows that provided the primary lighting for the room, behind the piano were shelves filled with sheet music and books on music theory. Some of the music seemed half complete, leading Michael to believe they were Austria's own compositions. Michael's own room held a bed, much larger than he was used to (or could ever get used to, as he had thought upon first seeing it), a desk, presumably for work, and a closet. There was a bathroom conveniently located across the hall.

Once it was time for dinner to be prepared Michael tried to offer his assitance, but was, fortunately, turned away. He really had no talent whatsoever for cooking meals other than pasta, which along with all different sorts of eggs is a must for any bachelor on their own (or so his father and uncle claimed).

After a mostly pleasant and maybe a touch awkward dinner of Wiener schnitzel and spätzle, Austria invited his two guests to a performance of his newest composition. Michael and Hungary brought chairs in from the dinner table, because for some reason there were none in the piano room. Once Michael was settled down next to Elizabeta, Roderich was ready to play.

Setting his fingers down gently on the ivory keys, counting the tempo steadily in his head, he took a deep breath and leaned in as he began. The song eased into the air of the room, quietly whispering, as though telling a secret. Then out floated a lofty melody, dancing through the room, echoing off the walls. Sparkling trills rained down on the audience, bringing the air of benevolent sunshine.  
A phone rang, but no one was paying attention. They were pulled into the vision that Roderich's music cleared for them. By the time the song ended in an uplifting chord, all three had tranquil smiles on their faces. Lifting his slender hands off the final notes, Austria exhaled. He couldn't quite be sure if it was the same breath he had taken in the beginning or not.

Elizabeta was the first to move. "Mr. Austria, that was beautiful, but I think the phone rang, I should check who called." She stood and exited at the musician's smile and nod.  
Michael was still looking for the word to describe what he had heard. "Wow," he breathed,"I want to say that it was...lovely, but that's not quite was more...incandescent. Yes! That's the word I was looking for. It was like the whole sound was softly glowing."

"_Danke_, I'm happy you enjoyed it." A peacefulness hung in the air between them. "You know, they weren't bothering me."

"I'm sorry, what?" Michael is confused, about the topic of the discussion.

"Your question's from earlier. They aren't as annoying as you seem to think they are." elaborates the country, looking back to the sheet music on the stand.

"Oh, that's a relief. I don't really want to be getting in anyone's way." He smiled amicably. Just as Austria frowned and opened his mouth to reply, Hungary returned.

"Bad news from Germany. It seems he could not find your suitcase at the address you gave him. He apologizes." she offers him a sympathetic smile.

"That's alright I can live till I get a chance to go shopping." with a sigh he rises from his seat. "I think I'm going to turn in for tonight._ Güte nacht_." He waves over his shoulder and leaves.

**A/N: If you can't tell I really like writing about how music sounds. I feel like there are so many fun ways to describe it.**

**Also I'd like to thank Lsplover2004 for your review. It absolutely made my day, I was grinning like an idiot for hours after I read it. I am grateful to anyone who takes time out of their day to tell me what they think of my story. I apologize it takes me so long to write these things. I have a tendency to over think the plot and doubt my ideas so I do a lot of editing.**

**Anyhow I hope you enjoyed!**


	3. Chapter 3

**I went a little over board with the German in this one, it was too fun to pass up. Also Disclaimer: I have no clue what proffessional translators actually do.**

**Translations:**

**Frankreich-** France

**Preußen**\- Prussia

**Deutschland**\- Germany

**Da sind sie! I hab gedacht des sie wieder spaet sind!**\- There you are! I thought you were late again!

**Frau Reisinger, wie geht's di?-** Mrs. Reisinger, how are you?

**Sehr gut. Und wer ist des?**\- Very good. And who is this?

**Des ist da Herr Biederwolf, er ist meiner Übersetzer**\- This is Mr. Biederwolf, he is my knew translator.

**Ah, wunderbar. Freulein Hedervary, hat mir das so etwas erzält. Hoffentlich alles ist gut mit dir, Herr Biederwolf?**\- Ah, wonderful. Miss Hedervary told me something like that. Hopefully everything is good with you Mr. Biederwolf?

**Danke, und Sie?**\- Thank you, and you?

**Auch gut, danke. I bin de Christine Reisinger, I hilfe mit Staatsangelegenheiten. Es ist sche sie zu treffen**. - Also well, thank you. I am Christine Reisinger, I help with affairs of state. It's nice to meet you.

**Ebenfalls**.- Likewise

**Wo ist Herr Edelstein jetzt gegangen? Wahrscheinlich laueft er wieder noch umadum. Des ist ned de zeit a Schmaehdandler zu sein**.- Where has Mr. Edelstein gone now? He's probably wandering around lost again. Now is not the time to be joking around.

**I suche ihn aus, I komme gleich zuruck**.- I will go seek him out, I'll be right back.

**Sie werden auch nur verloren**.- You will only be lost as well.

**Der Konfrenz zimmer ist am zweiten stock neben die treppen**.- The conference room is on the second floor next to the stairs.

**Schicken**\- to mail/send

Everything was warm and soft and cosy. Until the sharp bright sunlight and the rustle of curtains cut through it like it was butter. Michael buried his face in the pillow trying to drown everything else out. Someone grabs him by the shoulder and shakes him.

"Alright, time to get up, you sleepyface." He recognized it as Hungary's voice he groaned.

"But soft, what light through yonder window breaks? The answer is no light because it's too early." He groaned as he pushed himself up from the covers. Elizabeta snorts.

"And here I was, thinking you were going to be smooth."

"Like that would ever happen." He replied, now more awake, he grinned.

"True, true." She consented from his side. Then she held up some clothes. " and I picked out an outfit that we thought would fit you for today. You should get dressed and then come down for something to eat. The both of you will leave for England in an hour."

"Alright, thanks." He takes the clothes from her and looks through them. A sober gray suit, matching trousers and a white button down. His brow furrowed as he pulled out an extra piece of white cloth. Just as Elizabeta was about to exit his room he calls out uncertainly, "Uh, Elizabeta? Is he going to be offended if I don't wear the cravat?"

She pops her head back in and laughs. "He seems to think that they're the height of fashion, so probably." She notices his worried face and smiles knowingly."I can help you tie it if you like."

Michael relaxes in relief. "Oh god, thanks, that would have been an embarrassment."

"Just call me when you're ready, the bathroom's across the hall, in case you forgot." He waves at her in thanks as she leaves.

After a quick shower Michael dried his hair, tied it back and popped in his contacts. Then on came the shirt, jacket and pants. Elizabeta helped tie his cravat and then he was trotting down the stairs and trying to resist the urge to slide down the curved banister.

After a very European breakfast of bread with an array of coldcuts, cheese, and jam, the two said bye to Hungary, who promised to keep any hooligans away.  
Once in the car Michael turned his head to Austria, "Hooligans?"  
Austria grimaced, "Ja, well, we get some uninvited guests from time to time."  
Michael drew his brows close in confusion. "It's kind of far, to be coming all the way here just to break into a house."  
"It's normally other countries, so making the trip isn't much of a problem, they mostly come to bother Eliza and I."He explained." Frankreich comes by whenever it strikes his fancy and Preußen shows up when he's bored. Sometimes Italy visits, which wouldn't bother me, except he always fails to let us know when he's coming. Is it really so difficult to call ahead? One would think that all that time he spends with Deutschland would teach him these things, but as usual one cannot rely on Germans for anything." Michael simply smiled and nodded, having nothing to add.

As Austria huffed on, having all sorts of complaints about the other countries, Michael thought about the depth of the relationships between all of them. He supposes that there'd be plenty of time to forge friendships and hold grudges when one has been around for so long. Most of all it would probably be painful and lonely, with only a handful of people who will live as long as you and at least half of them you've probably waged bloody wars against. He counts himself lucky that he's just a normal human being. Well aside from all this falling through the cathedral floor business, but beggars can't be choosers.

Once they had arrived at the conference hall where the meeting would be held they were approached by a very proffesional looking woman. Her dark hair was pinned up strictly and her pantsuit was pitch black.

"Da sind sie! I hab gedacht des sie wieder spaet sind!" She exclaimed once she was in earshot.

"Frau Reisinger, wie geht's di?" inquired Austria.

"Sehr gut. Und wer ist des?" She asked turning to Michael.

"Des ist da Herr Biederwolf, er ist meiner Übersetzer."

"Ah, wunderbar. Freulein Hedervary, hat mir das so etwas erzält. Hoffentlich alles ist gut mit dir, Herr Biederwolf?"

"Sehr gut, danke, und Sie?" Replied Michael with a friendly smile, waving a little with the notebook he had brought along.

"Auch gut, danke. I bin de Christine Reisinger, I hilfe mit Staatsangelegenheiten. Es ist sche sie zu treffen."

"Ebenfalls." Suddenly Reisinger turned to Michael's side, with an annoyed expression pinching her features. Then she sighs.

"Wo ist Herr Edelstein jetzt gegangen? Wahrscheinlich laueft er wieder noch umadum. Des ist ned de zeit a Schmaehdandler zu sein." That was a very good point, where did Austria run off to? Michael spun on his heel in order to skim the near vicinity for the man. He was nowhere to be found in the sea of pristinely groomed heads and crisp suits. Michael is reminded of something that had happened earlier.

Right as Hungary had finished tying his cravat (it wasn't as hard to do as he originally thought it would be) and he was going to walk down stairs when she pulled him back. Her face devoid of any teasing that may have occured during the ordeal, she looked him in the eyes and told him, "Keep an eye on him. He has a way of getting away, so just...keep an eye on him for me, okay?"

Intimidated by her intensity and confused by her meaning he looked away, "Um...right, I can do that."

"Keep an eye on him, she says." He huffs, "Just keep an eye on him and he dissappears like a ghost. Wouldn't be surprised if he was one. I suche ihn aus, I komme gleich zuruck." He began to walk, but a sharp tug at his arm made him stumble back.

"Sie werden auch nur verloren." That was true, but lost? Was Austria lost? That seemed so unlikely, the man was rather composed and very much in control of his bearings. Still, better figure out where he was. Bouncing on the balls of his feet in distress he turns to the lady before him who merely sighs. Then suggests they both split up to look for Mr. Edelstein.

"Der Konfrenz zimmer ist am zweiten stock neben die treppen." She informed him. Good, so they could meet there if either of them found Austria, Michael thought, nodding in agreement before making his way through the crowd, muttering apologies as he was forced to jostle people a little.

Why couldn't he be taller like everyone else. He had always been short, only a few unfortunate boys had been more vertically challenged than he, and at least they hadn't had squeaky voices throughout highschool. Girls had thought him adorable, but not in the 'aww that's so sweet, I want to date you' way, more like 'He tries so hard, isn't that cute?'. Not that he really wanted their attentions, but for people who weren't interested they sure spent a lot of time talking about him. Well it doesn't really matter anymore, no need to dwell in the past.

Shaking himself himself out of his thoughts he tried to see over the sea of politicians. Boy, was he out of his element. He clutched his notebook tighter.

Wait! There! He thought he saw that familiar military coat and the Jabot that Austria had been wearing in lieu of a cravat today. Well at least after this he'll know he's had his compulsory first day on the job adventure (disaster).

Fortunately the crowds were thinning, but that also meant he was running out of time. He lengthened his stride to catch up and finally reached a hand and grabbed Austria's shoulder to keep him from getting any further. When the country whipped around in surprise Michael pulled his hand back and smiled apologetically " I was worried you were going to run off again. The meetings about to start, by the way."

"I know, where did you think I was going?" His voice was indignant, but the pianist didn't seem to want to meet Michael's eye.

"Oh,... okay, sorry." Michael apologized haltingly. "Well, ah, let's get going. Don't want to be late."

Micheal adjusted his cravat, as he leaned foreward to hear what the English secretary was saying, and scribbled it down into his notebook and then repeated it in german, while trying to patch up any tactless blunders one party might have made while addressing the other. Searching his vocabulary for the proper turn of phrase was something of an enjoyable puzzle for him though.

It was certainly exausting work, of that there was no doubt, but at least he knew what he was doing. Although it's a lot different than translating for parent teacher conferences, or any of the other things he usually does. Maybe, he could get used to it though. This is what he'd always wanted to do.

He allowed himself a smile and Austria who sat to his left gave him an odd look. Michael didn't have time to address it though as politicians kept talking, meaning he had to keep scribbling and talking. He licked his lips, he could definitely use a drink of water, but there was never a lull in the discussion in which he could take a sip from the bottle placed at his seat.

When he turned his eyes back to his new boss, the man was facing Mrs. Reisinger; presumably distracted by her words on energy saving and how it factored into budget; his ears seemed tinged pink by the heat, probably justified as the man was wearing what could be no less than four layers. Also his hair was rather thick, that can't be helping, no matter how nice it looked (unlike Michael's which was frizzing up unflatteringly, despite being tied back).

Finally stepping out of the stuffy conference room (honestly one would think they'd air condition it better) was a relief and Michael managed to force the entirety of the water in his bottle down his throat without drowning in it.

"Well, that was that." Sighed Austria, wearily. "How did you feel? You did rather well."

"Oh thanks," grinned Michael bashfully, pushing back hair that was making a get away from his hair tie. "I guess I was a bit nervouse at first, but once I got into it I was alright."

"Stage-fright?" Inquired the country with a measure of curiosity, although he might just be trying to be polite as he seemed exausted.

"No not really. I was more afraid I'd mix words up, it's happened before. Someone going to the post office to mail something and someone going the post office to get chicken is not the same thing." He paused, considered his words and laughing. "It sounds obvious enough, but when you're switching between languages your common sense can get stuck somewhere in between."

The pianist laughed at the oddity of the statement and regarded him over the frames of his glasses. "Really? I'm not sure I understand."

"Oh, well, you know in english chicken sounds like schicken and homophones really throw me off when I'm translating." He explained.

"It sounds like transposing music..." contemplated the country.

"Yeah! It's a lot like that, I mean, transposing is basically translating from one clef to another right?"

"I see." A pause, "Do you know much about music? You seem to be speaking from experience."

Michael's expression froze, "Ah, um, it's mandatory to take a music class in a lot of public schools in America, er, Choir, Orchestra or Band. Sometimes Percussion." He fidgeted with his shirtsleeves when he finished elaborating.

"Mm, and what did you take?" The man's violet eyes glinted and Michael got the impression he was excited or at least hopeful. He hated to let the man down when he clearly loved music so much.

"I actually don't play any sort of instrument very well, sorry to get your hopes up." Michael looked away sheepishly. "But from what you preformed last night, I think it's safe to assume you play well enough for the both of us."

"Danke, you're very kind."

Michael shrugged, "It's only the truth. Are we heading any where specific, or back to...?" He wasn't sure what to say, the house? Home? Your country? It all sounded a little awkward.

"Oh, that's right. I forgot to let you know, but Deutschland has invited us over for dinner. Elizabeta will be meeting us there." Michael smiled back to Germany, where his trip had started. Maybe he could contact his uncle, while they where there.

The trip to Germany's house was uneventful and not very long, Michael still wasn't sure about all this country travel stuff, but what works works, he supposed. The two attempted to hold a conversation about the meeting, but the seeing as the conference had been the dullest thing since plain kornflakes, there wasn't much to say. Not to mention the two had literally met yesterday, so they knew very little about eachother and no one wanted to start an unwanted conversation with the other.

Now the pair of them stood on the doorstep of a charming, classic german house in a field neighboring a hill. Michael reached to ring the doorbell, but the door was slammed open, narrowly missing his face and he stumbled backwards, startled.

"Whoa, there." He breathed catching himself from crashing into the Austrian behind him, who was glaring pointedly at the open door.

"Hey, West! The aristocrat and the other guy are-" The albino's head was violently greeted with a frying pan and he collapsed on the door step. Michael nervously took a step back, but it was only Hungary wielding her skillet.

She grinned wickedly, "Hello, boys!"

**A/n: I clearly cannot name chapters for the life of me. In any case, thanks so much for reading this far, it means a lot to me that people follow along with this story despite the sporadic updates. Any feedback is always appreciated, I promise I'm a total fangirl around anyone who lets me talk to them. **


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